The Wandering Knight
by RobG93G
Summary: Hello This is my first time writing a story so excuse my mistakes. I'm also new to fanfiction. Now I don't perfectly Know the lore of the elder scrolls so again excuse me if I write things that don't make sense with the elder scrolls lore. Anyways, so this story is about a Knight from Cyrodiil that is on his way to Solitude to assist the Imperial Legion. So here goes...
1. Chapter 1

** H**e woke to the sounds of birds whistling merrily and little brown rabbits passing by with dirt flying behind their small hind legs. The sun had not fully come out yet but he could feel the slight warmth of it on his skin already. The weather in Skyrim never fared well for him since his arrival in the country and he knew it was still considered warm there than other places in Skyrim. _It was never this cold in Cyrodiil_, he thought. _Why didn't I bring warmer clothes_? He rose from the rock-filled dirt and dusted off his thin tunic and fur coat. The smell of the tall trees filled his thin unlined nose and made his eyes tear. They were all around him. Small, thin light brown trees as well as large, broad, almost black ones. A good idea, he told himself the night before. More trees would disguise him from potential threats that crept in the night. He has heard tales of how men were eaten whole by bears whilst they slept. _Let a bear come_, he thought to himself. _They scare me no more than the common villager_.

The Knight kicked dirt into the campfire profusely to set it out. He went for his knapsack and pulled out some sweet honey-filled goat milk encased in a jug and some stale bread wrapped in cotton. He exercised his legs as he broke his fast, trying to preserve time. He grew tired of eating the same foods every day since he departed from Cyrodiil. Milk and bread in the mornings, and rabbit haunches in the afternoon. To make matters worse, he was running low on the food. He was never a hunter and he carried no bow so he had trouble catching food. The rabbits were too fast for him and even then, he scarcely saw any other animal. He could have really went for an inn somewhere but he did not know where he was.

He had lost his map as well as his accompanying squire. It had only been a day past since he last saw a steel sword cut through the young boy's chest. They had stumbled upon a bandit camp, stupidly attempting to make an acquaintance with them. There were at least 8 bandits covered in hide and fur armour. He heard one of the bandits shout " Look at that one! A nice set of armour he has on!" The Knight had been carrying quite a few goods with him, but it was his armour that mattered to him the most. It was the steel plate armour that kept him intact since he departed from Cyrodiil. He had it forged by one of his most trusted allies back home. It was shiny with parts of leather circling the waist area and scales rowing down across the back of the Cuirass. The armour pleased him when his ally presented it to him. He knew he couldn't let the bandits get a hold of such a fine armour. He managed to slice through two bandits easily with two quick swings to necks of each. Another bandit had approached him clad in iron armour with a steel sword on his right hand and an iron shield on his left. The bandit had swung at him but the knight side-stepped to the left and cut him in the leg. The bandit staggered and the knight drove his steel sword through the back of his skull. Blood splattered all over his steel skirts as his weapon left a hole as it exited. He turned back and saw his squire surrounded by the other five bandits. It had been too late for him. The knight made a dash for his horse, mounted and sprinted off into the night. He had only heard one shriek. The squire. _Better you than me_, he thought.

That was at least what he remembered the day past. He had tried to forget what had occurred by sleeping it off._ This day will be better_, he thought as he began to sit. He dug his feet into his steel plate boots, his arms in his gauntlets and his chest in his cuirass. A tedious task it was for him to don his armour. Before, it had always been the squire's burden to dress him. At last, he equipped his bright silver helm as he rose up. The rest of his equipment was put in his knapsack as he readied his horse. He had to get to Solitude and he knew it was at the very North of Skyrim, but it was too far away from him. It had already been days since he first passed by Falkreath and he had not seen any settlements since then. He chose a direction and hoped for the best. Hopefully he would arrive in Markarth where he could resupply and perhaps get some rest, he thought to himself. _Hopefully_.


	2. Chapter 2: The Orcs

**H**is horse trotted calmly against sodden grass, mud splashing all about as its black mane was being blown by the frosty wind. The brown beast proved to be reliable enough thus far with hind legs so powerful they looked like they could take a house down. It showed no hint of weakness even though it had never been used to travel far. Every now and then the knight would dismount to give the horse a pause from his weighty body as well as give himself a breather. Sitting on the horse for long periods of time made his arse sore. The horses stableboy threw a random saddle on the horse at the last second when he left for Skyrim it seemed. He could feel the quality of it as hours passed.

The knight halted and broke his pace to take a piss near some lavender and thistle plants. One foot at a time he trudged through the soggy grass hastily as he could feel the crisp swampy water rise slowly. He began to stare off into the background inspecting for some substantial game since he had seen some massive deer a few paces back. He had noted, however, that a lake could be nearby that was causing this wet grass. Perhaps he could catch some histcarp and river bettys swimming in the water as well.

As he was finished relieving himself, he heard his horse shriek and sprint off. The knight raced back almost falling into the slippery brown water with his castle-forged steel sword in hand ready while he tightened his helm. Two thin brown wolves circled his belongings waiting for the knight to engage. The creatures flashed their sharp yellow teeth as he attempted to approach. Their red eyes overshadowed their big black snout and rough pointy ears. The knight pushed forward with his weapon prepared to strike when the wolves suddenly lowered their jaws and darted off into the woods with his knapsack. _Well there goes the rest of my food and clothes_, he thought. He found his horse hidden behind a tree at peace from the trouble. He mounted and returned to his path._ I must push on_, he told himself in his realm of consciousness.

A few hours in, dusk approached and expelled the sun's shadows. The knight only brought with him a single torch as he believed he would not be needing another. He felt the icy nord cold begin to return as he strolled. He slowed and decided that this was going to have to be his stop for the night but just as he ceased, he noticed a fire in the distance. A camp or a town, it mattered not to him. He forced the horse to a sprint as the flames appeared closer. As he drew nearer, he saw tall sharp fences that confined the sparks. He slowed out of caution, attempting to study the camp. From what he saw, it was more than a camp. A long crescent-shaped house centered the site with smaller ones circled around it. The knight made a slow approach, still cautious. Sounds of smithing came to his freezing ears as well as other sounds. _This has to be an Orc stronghold_, he thought. _These aren't bandits_. As he neared he saw a figure standing on the watchtower. The figure also noticed him it seemed. The knight lifted his burly arms into the sky to let them know he was no threat. That alerted them even more.

"Stop there!" The voice yelled. It was a female voice. Another figure positioned itself weapon drawn to get a better vantage. "Please!, the knight replied. "I need food and water! I've been lost for days!". He moved forward. "Move any closer, and you're going to get an arrow between your eyes!", he heard. The knight froze. "Please I'll pay you! I've gold!" But before he could say another word, a gate opened and a stout man came out. The knight stiffly removed his helm revealing his long blonde sun-colored hair and smooth young skin. The Orc eyed him as he approached the horse. "What do you want? the Orc said, "your kind ain't welcome here". "Please", said the knight, "I'm dying out here. If I could get some food and drink, perhaps a bed to rest in, you would have my gratitude". "And what can we use with your gratitude?" said the Orc. "We can't eat your gratitude". _No but you ugly monsters could probably eat me_, he thought. "I have gold, please" said the knight as he held a coin purse in the air. The Orc squinted at the purse and said, "Gold ain't much use to us here. We hunt our food and we make our beds and weapons. The knight noticed the mine a few seconds after he mentioned the weapons. _These beasts do make their own weapons from the looks of it_, he thought. "Please", the knight said, "one night is all I ask". The big Orc eyed him from head to toe. "Well", the Orc said, "that is some fancy armour you have on". _Not my armour_, the knight thought. "I can not give you my armour", said the knight. "Then I can not give you my hospitalities", said the Orc as He began to walk away back to his camp. "Wait!", said the knight. The Orc glanced back. "I can not give you my armour, but I can make you my friend". The Orc let out a laugh so loud it hurt the knight's ears. He tried to ignore it and said, "I help my friends, whether it is food they need or some steel plate armour. I like to see my friends well armed". The Orc laughed no more. "If you accept me", said the knight, "I will get you the finest steel armour your little clan can ever get a hold of. In time". The Orc did not look away at him. "In time", said the Orc. The knight nodded. As a show of appreciation, the knight handed him a well sum of gold. "Well then", said the Orc "That's a start. What is your name?", said the Orc. "My name is Ser Henri Decivhus" The knight said. The Orc gave him a confused look. _These creatures must not know what a real knight is_, he thought. "Just call me Henri, if it please you." "Henri" Said the Orc. "Very well, I am Chief Burguk. Welcome to Dushnikh Yal".


End file.
